


No Rest for the Wicked

by FudgingPastry



Series: Dream Demon [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Blood and Gore, Demon Hunters, Demons, Drug Use, Gen, Humanstuck, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-15
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-01 13:51:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2775416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FudgingPastry/pseuds/FudgingPastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demon hunters, Dirk, Dave, Rose, and company, have been alerted to a dangerous demon presence in their city and they must bring this demon down in order to prevent any more deaths, but what they don't realize is that there is more to this siuation than they first thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red is the Color of Spilled Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to I Saw You in a Dream Once

A gust of wind blew into the two men as they stood looking down on the apartment complex as if trying to keep them from going down. The taller man, older only by a few years, lifted a hand to adjust his ear piece. His gaze unfocused a moment as he listened to the woman on the other end explaining their instructions. He nodded once, though she couldn’t possibly see it, and tapped on the younger man’s shoulder. The younger man looked back, a hint of a smile on his face, before adjusting his shades and they started down to the apartment complex. They had gotten a call earlier that told them to go investigate a death. A young woman had died from falling out of a window, they said. The two men arrived at the scene, the woman’s body surrounded by yellow police tape. They showed the police their badges and they were let onto the scene. The older man stared down at the body, his expression hidden by his pointed shades. The younger man grimaced at the sight of the torn up body.

“Looks like she was attacked by a hellhound.” The older man commented. The woman’s chest had been scratched open, as if she had been clawing at herself and trying to get something off – or out of her.

“They said she had hit a fence on the way down, right?” The younger man asked, his voice higher than his brother’s. The older brother nodded as the younger brother scanned the scene. The older brother directed him to the woman’s apartment window and the younger brother frowned. “Don’t think she would’ve hit the fence. Damn thing’s too far off from her window. Falling wouldn’t have done the trick.” He looked at it again, motioning with his fingers. “Maybe if she was thrown and then dragged.”

“No blood trail.” The older brother nodded to the ground around the woman. “Fell down right here.”

“Or was thrown.”

“Why don’t we ask someone then?” The older brother’s lips quirked into a quick smile as he dipped underneath the police tape. He asked the police where the landlord lived and the officer directed them to the first floor of the complex across from where the woman lived. The two men knocked on the door.

The door opened to reveal a tall man, about as tall as the older brother, but the man slouched a bit. He looked the two over, saw their suits and looked back at their faces, confused.

“Uh, excuse me brothers, but who are you?” The brothers flipped open their badges, showing the guy who they were.

“Dirk and Dave Strider, sir. We’re looking for the landlord of these apartment complexes. We have a few questions pertaining to the death of one of their residents.” Dirk introduced themselves.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” The guy called over his shoulder and a short and stout man appeared. Muscles rippled under his arms and he walked calmly over to the Strider brothers. The guy introduced the brothers and the landlord shook their hands and introduced himself.

“Yes, nice to meet both of you. Please come in. Please call me Mr. Lex. This is my nephew, Ryden. I hope you don’t mind if he stays while we talk.” Mr. Lex led them to the kitchen, gesturing to some empty seats around the table. The four men sat so that the Striders faced Mr. Lex and Ryden sat off to the side, lounging in his chair. The Striders asked about the woman and if he knew if she had any abusive relationships or abused any substances. Dirk specifically asked if she had a history of alcoholism or substance abuse. As Mr. Lex shook his head no, Dave noticed how Ryden stiffened at the mention of drug abuse. Barely a second later and the nephew relaxed, a lazy smile returning to his face. Dirk asked if they could go up and check out the apartment. The landlord glanced at his nephew who shrugged.

“Yes, I guess it would be fine. I need to finish up some paperwork. Do you mind if he takes you up? You can see if you like the apartment, Ryden.”

“Wait, hold up,” Dave leaned forward, gesturing to the nephew. “Are you looking to move into that apartment?”

“Yeah, why not, brother?”

“A woman died in there.” Dirk stated matter-of-factly. Ryden shrugged, grinning widely.

“Makes for a good motherfucking story, don’t you think?” Dave struggled with hiding his disgust, but the brothers followed him as the nephew took them out of the apartment and into the other apartment complex.

“Why do you want to move into the apartment, Ryden?” Dirk asked, making conversation as the nephew led them down the hallway.

“Yeah, why don’t you just move in with your uncle? Sure he’s got some room somewhere.” Ryden looked over his shoulder, a strange expression briefly crossing his features. An instant later, he smiled and replied with another laid-back shrug. Dave frowned, but didn’t push further. They were there on business. There was a very specific reason why they were there. They pretended to be special agents, almost like detectives or like the fucking CIA. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

Ryden stopped at a door and opened it, gesturing for them to go in. Dirk told him to wait out in the hallway; didn’t want to mess the crime scene up. Dave walked in, stepping around the mess. Looked as though the woman had ran through her apartment, throwing things to the floor and trashing the place like a college frat party before jumping out the window. Dirk followed behind him, his gaze studying the walls and the ceiling while Dave studied the floor. Dirk passed the window where she fell out of and he looked down. There was a clear shot down to where the body was. The fence the police said she hit was about five feet to the left.

“She didn’t hit the fence. It’s too far.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe a hellhound did scratch her up?” Dave snickered, but stopped when Dirk’s hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up and the older brother nodded toward the open door. The nephew was still there. Shouldn’t talk about business while ears could listen in. Dave nodded and continued looking at the mess. He was about to give up on them finding anything actually helpful when he noticed a red powder on the ground. He dropped to the ground, peering intently at the pile of powder.

“Hey Dirk, take a look at this.” Dirk leaned over, phone in his hand; he was texting someone. “Kind of looks like cocaine.”

“It’s red, bro.”

“Yeah, I get that it’s red and for all we know, it might be some new weird drug that’s worse than cocaine.”

“Or it’s dyed.”

“Even that’s kind of messed up, bro. Who’d ever dye cocaine? What would they even call it? Special stardust or some other weird shit?”

“Dave.”

“I mean, if someone ever tried selling me red cocaine, I wouldn’t take it. What if they put something else in it? What if it’ll fuck me up so bad I’ll never recover? “

“Dave.”

“And what if—“ Dirk yanked on his brother’s shoulder hard. “Hey, what gives, bro?”

“You’re rambling again. If you’re so curious, take a sample.” Dave nodded, looking around for something to put the sample in. Dirk handed him a vial. As Dave began slipping some of the red powder into the vial, someone started screaming in the hallway. The Strider’s heads snapped to the open door only to hear Ryden raise his voice. He was shouting at someone in the hallway, telling them ‘No, no you can’t go in there. There’s people doing work in there! No!’ Suddenly, a woman bolted into the room, a hand clawing at her face.

“Get it off! Get it off! There’s something on my face, get it off!” Dirk tried to grab her, but she slipped out of his grasp. She ran around the room, tearing through it in her panic to get whatever was on her face off. Dave narrowed his eyes; he couldn’t see anything on her face. The woman stopped and with a cry of pain and fear, she dug her nails into her skin and ripped gashes down her cheeks. Dave jerked back in disgust. The woman started cackling then, a high, crazed noise. Her body began to tremble and she stumbled over to stand in front of Dave, grinning brokenly, her face bleeding from the gashes in her cheek.

Dirk kicked the woman back and she fell back, scattering the red powder. When she hit the ground, her body convulsed and a few seconds later and she was dead. Dave covered his mouth, tasting bile in the back of his throat. Dirk dragged his little brother up and away from the woman, walking quickly from the room. In the hallway, Ryden was pressed against the wall, breathing shakily as if terrified. He opened his eyes and saw the Striders.

“I’m so sorry. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen and… What happened to her?”

“Dead.” Dirk stated coldly. Ryden flinched back, muttering no over and over again.

“We’re leaving.” Ryden looked up and made to lead them out, but Dirk grabbed his arm and pressed him against the wall. “We’ll show ourselves out. Hope you enjoy your apartment.” And with that, the Striders left the apartment complex without another word.

The nephew watched them go from the dead woman’s apartment window. His eyes narrowed and his gaze flickered over to where the other woman lay dead. He walked over and bent down, his hand picking up a pinch of the red powder scattered over the carpet. As he stared at the dead woman, the landlord steps out of the hall and into the door frame.

“Sir?” The landlord asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Not even close.” The tall man stood, his teeth bared. His appearance flickered. He nudged the body with his foot, his gaze cold and distant, almost frustrated. His appearance flickered again.

“And the Striders?” The tall man lifted his head, rolling his shoulders.

“It shouldn’t be a motherfucking problem just yet. Keep an eye on them, though. Don’t want the heretics sniffing into business that they got no right to be sniffing at.”

“But, what if they find out? What if we get caught—“ A blast of energy slammed into the landlord and he stared fearfully at the person before him. Two figures seemed to rise from the tall man’s back, one with a smile that was forced wider with a claw in its mouth while the other covered its face, hiding a sobbing frown.

“Leave it to me,” The demon hissed and pulled back. The image of the two figures faded, but his appearance flickered again, revealing gray skin, face paint, and two orange horns that spiraled upwards.

“Leave it to me, motherfucker.”


	2. Lime is the Data You Will Receive

_Initializing…_

_Receiving information from database…_

_Entry 413: Mirthful Messiahs_

_This entry states all information relevant to the demon known as the Mirthful Messiahs._

_Full Name: Unknown. Demon Type: Unknown. Appearance: Gray skin, orange antelope horns, face paint and/or facial tattoos. Hostility Level: High. Do not engage. Danger to Humans: Uncertain. Range between medium to high. Do not engage. Possible psychic abilities. More data is needed._

The demon known as the Mirthful Messiahs came into the demon hunters’ database one year ago. Two demon hunter groups were stationed near the city and they communicated back and forth, sharing their information with each other. One of the groups was doing a routine parameter check when they located a demon’s signature. A demon signature was the only absolute way to locate demons within a certain range. Each signature belongs to one specific demon and to date, no demons could share the exact same signature.

They searched their database of signatures and did not recognize the one they had located. The signature they located wavered as if the demon was trying to hide it, but failing through possible lack of power. They were about to send someone out to take out the demon, show it mercy if it was already dying, when the other demon hunter group reached them. This group told them, ‘Do not engage the signature. It is not a demon.’ Confused, the leader of the group turned on all the cameras they had around their location. She scanned the monitors, searching for anything moving around outside.

After a few minutes, they found movement. There was a figure who walked with a shambling gait, similar to that of a zombie’s. They zoomed in and sure enough, the thing was not a demon. Rather, it was a human. But they asked amongst themselves, why would a human give off a demon signature? With the other group watching them, one of the monitors picked up another signature. This signature was large and stable, pulsing as the demon displayed.

The act of displaying meant that a demon was showing off their power as if to ward off predators or rivals. One look at the information the monitor was picking up from the demon and the leader shouted to her comrades, ‘Do not engage! Do not engage!’ She barely had enough time to shout it twice more before a blast of energy slammed through their hideout. Lights flickered and sparked and shorted out. The back-up generators turned on, giving them a view of the demon as it passed their hideout, heading toward the shambling human.

With what looked to be a juggling club in one hand, the demon smashed the human’s head in. The demon proceeded to beat the human with the club until there was nothing left but mush. As the hunters looked on at the demon, it straightened, turned, and displayed for all to see.

That night, one of the hunters overheard someone saying that the demon was called the Mirthful Messiahs. It is still uncertain if the demon started the codename or if the hunters did. Either way, both parties used the term.

The demon hunters hunted all types of demons, some even taking down a few greater demons in their time. The two groups in the city, as stated before, worked together and shared information. If one group missed some information, the other would fill it in. If there was something one group couldn’t take down alone, they would enlist help from the other group. A main point of conversation between the two groups’ members was why they didn’t just merge to form one big group. The answer to this was always the same. The leader of the larger group offering while the small group declined. The smaller group worked well with the number of people they had, plus the Striders didn’t work well with many others.

The smaller group’s members consisted of Dirk and Dave Strider and Rose and Roxy Lalonde. The larger group consisted of many more members, but a few were more significant, especially to this story. The quote-unquote leader was Meenah Peixes and the others that were significant were John Egbert, Jade Harley, and Jake English.

After the incident of the shambling human and the introduction of the Mirthful Messiahs, the hunters were alerted to many more unexplained deaths in the area. There were deaths like the women in the apartment complex that did not have easy nor reliable explanations. (What common theme was there between the two women? Perhaps it had to do with the idea that they were trying to get something off of them?) A week after the Striders had gone to check out the apartment, John was out walking around and there was a man who stood by the display window of a store. The man had one hand on his gut and the other pressed against the wall, fingers digging in like claws. John stopped to help the man when he retched, the sick was yellow in color with small flecks of blood. John called for help and the man slumped over. By the time he was able to get a hold of an operator through 911, the man was dead.

However, there were quieter deaths. Heart attacks, seizures, brain trauma where there was no obvious source of trauma. The hunters first thought that it must be this new demon, the demon dubbed the Mirthful Messiahs, but the demon’s signature stayed off their monitors for weeks. At least, until there was a sudden spike in demon activity.

Meenah jumped to the monitor, jabbing the nerd who was working and told him to expand the feed. The green data raced across the screen and she scanned the information for the location and the number of signatures. It looked as though a large group of demons were gathers at the edge of the city and at least two of them were currently displaying. She grinned like a shark when she spotted the Mirthful Messiahs signature. She brought up chat interface the two hunter groups used to communicate through and sent Roxy the information with the message: _Tell your buoys, we’re huntin tonight!_

Ten minutes later and Dirk, Jake, and Roxy sat on the top of a building, watching the gathering below. Jake fiddled with his pistols, swinging one in a circle and throwing the other in the air and caught it with a swipe of his hand. Roxy fussed with her rifle and squinted every so often down at the group of demons.  Dirk sat on the edge, distant and still.

Below them, it looked as though two demons were arguing, but the sound didn’t carry well up to the hunters. One was large and dark, their arms ending in sickle-like points that they gestured widely with, their tail slithering back and forth angrily. The other matched the description for the Mirthful Messiahs, as far as the hunters could tell. The Mirthful Messiahs kept glancing around at the other around it, shouting and gesturing, snarling at the sickle-handed demon. The two demons began another shouting match and for the third time that night, the two displayed. The sickle-handed demon clawed at the ground, growling and snapping its wide maw while the Mirthful Messiahs displayed the two figures. The display lasted for a few seconds and it looked as though the Mirthful Messiahs was losing the argument. The demon’s shoulders slumped, snapped once at the sickle-handed demon, and turned away, walking with its horns down in defeat. The sickle-handed demon cackled loud and a gust of wind dragged the sound of its voice up to the hunters.

“You think that you can waltz right in here, you lowest of the low, and convince us that you’re worthy of being respected? You’re a filthy little worm that belongs in the dark and the dirt. You aren’t even worthy to see the light of day, you pathetic piece of—“ The Mirthful Messiah’s clawed hand pierced through the sickle-handed demon’s throat in the time it took for it to breathe. The Mirthful Messiahs hissed dark things back at the demon, its voice too quiet for more than a few people to hear. The sickle-handed demon’s eyes went wide and it sputtered, sickles coming up to touch its chest. Roxy leaned forward from the hunter’s perch, staring at its chest as it began to swell.

“Your respect is worth nothing to me. I will paint the ground with the color of your blood.” The Mirthful Messiahs snarled, hand twisting down the other demon’s throat. “If you think that you’re worth the title of a noble, of my superior, then enjoy my gift to you.” The Mirthful Messiahs yanked its hand from the demon’s throat and it bent over gasping for breath. The sickle-handed demon felt at its chest, horrified as it continued to swell.

“What-what did you do?”

“Left you motherfucking blasphemers a little parting gift. See you in hell, motherfucker.” The Mirthful Messiahs then bolted and for good reason. Barely a minute later and the sickle-handed demon’s chest exploded open, jade-colored goop mixing with the demon’s blood. The hunters above jerked back in horror, Jake covering his mouth to keep from retching. Roxy looked back down at the gathering as the demons scattered.

“What do we do? Should we clean it up?”

“I’d rather we let that thing rot.” Dirk replied before standing. “It’s not our mess. We don’t clean it up.” And without another word, the hunters left for their respective homes.

…

_End of Entry 413._


	3. Yellow for the Sun He Walks Under

Gamzee Makara lifted his head to the bright sun high above the buildings. He squinted against the light, too bright for his eyes, and he dropped his head to his hands. The dark skin laid tight over his bones and his fingers reminded him of spiders. He grinned, his tongue licking over his teeth. His tongue lingered over his canines and he thought briefly of how his appearance looked to anyone else. People walked by him and he knew that when they would glance in his direction, they would only see the dark skinned man with the three scars crossing his face. If they were lucky, they’d never see the way gray skin stretched over long, bony fingers or how those fingers ended in sharpened claws. They wouldn’t see how two long horns sprouted and spiraled up from his head, the ends tipped in gold and fading to red beneath obsidian hair. He laughed under his breath as if remembering a joke and reminiscing in its mirth. No, they’d only see a man whose pink tongue licked over his canines and how funny was that?

The Mirthful Messiahs stretched, smiling at the sun, the yellow sun that was too bright for his eyes. Even through his disguise, his eyes were still the same. Dark, purple on yellow, and he hoped that one day he’d have enough power to fix even that. Power was something he needed. Power was something every demon needed, what every being needed, and power was not something that came readily to him. Or at least, his kind. On the hierarchy of demonic beings, he was near the bottom. Not the lowest, but pretty motherfucking close. He had been envious of the way many demons higher than him could walk around in the daylight. He envied how they could talk to their prey and change their form on a whim. Their power came from the same prey, but they received it differently. He was near the bottom because his power came from dreams. He needed to feed off of dreams – good, vivid dreams – in order to survive. Dreams like that were hard to find and he needed to reserve energy.

So he had stayed in the shadows and kept the easiest form he could manage: a dark, wispy form that looked as though he was made of nothing more than darkened clouds. That was the form he would wear while he fed. When he fed, he would touch his prey and his eyes would unfocus and he would see the threads of life flowing from his prey’s body. These life lines were very active during dreams and he was able to tap into those and feed off of his prey’s life force. His prey was already unconscious, so a little more wouldn’t necessarily hurt them. They might wake up woozy or groggier than they normally would, but Gamzee had been alive for a long time. He knew just how much to take and how much was too much.

He’d been alive for a long time and much of that time was spent in the shadows. In the cracks, in the corners, in the blind spots of his prey and he was tired of hiding. He was tired of the disrespect other demons would throw at him. He was tired of being pushed around, of being spat on, of being called nothing more than dirt and scum and filth for what he was.

And so he came up with a plan. He noticed one night his prey had trouble sleeping – partially from Gamzee’s feeding – and before he slept, he swallowed these pills that helped him to sleep. The pills made the prey fall asleep quickly, but they made him less susceptible to dreaming. Gamzee grabbed the pill bottle and looked over it, quickly coming up with an idea. If he could create something similar to these drugs, maybe his prey would fall asleep quicker and he could tap into their dreams and feed more efficiently. With that idea in mind, he ran to find another demon, a follower of his faith with sins to repent for. He found the demon, the Mole, underground and explained his idea. The Mole was even lower than Gamzee on the hierarchy of demons, but they were clever. They nodded and understood and suggested ways that they could create the drugs. They even suggested a few demons who owed the Mole for favors the demons had them do. The Mole gave him directions to one such demon and they gave him instructions on what to say when he found the demon.

The demon the Mole gave him directions to was a landlord for two apartment complexes. He went to the complex in the dead of night and knocked on the door. When the landlord came to shout at whoever was there, he saw the demon and let him in once Gamzee mentioned he was from the Mole. The landlord’s name was Melek, using the name Michael Lex for the apartment complex. Melek was higher than Gamzee, but he listened to the demon’s idea. He offered a few of his residents up to be guinea pigs for the testing of the drugs, warning the demon to be careful.

The first prototype of the drug was created from some demon blood the Mole had and it was made in the form of a lime green powder. The Mole looked at it and mentioned that something might be wrong with it. Should be fine to test, but that they should bring the test subject out of town first. They grabbed one human and forced them to ingest the powder. As soon as the drug was ingested, the human’s life signals spasmed and eventually all higher mental functions desisted. The human had been standing and walking when the drug was fully ingested and the human began to shamble like a zombie. It also began to transmit a demon’s signature. The Mole suggested that it came from the demon blood they used.

Gamzee felt regret for the human, for causing it to be nothing more than a shambling body. He grabbed his weapons, a pair of juggling clubs, and went after the human. Quickly, he realized that there was a demon hunter hideout nearby and they were most likely alerted to the demon signature the test subject was transmitting. Gamzee displayed with what was left of his reserved power and passed the hideout with a warning for them to not interfere. The rest of the night he spent in reserved silence, wiping brain matter and blood from his clubs.

The next prototype was more compatible with human bodies and stayed in the human. However, there wasn’t enough of the drug in the first dose for it to be an effective way to feed. Gamzee gave one of the two test subjects a bit more of the drug and it worked well enough and he was able to get some more power. Except that later that night she thought that something was in her abdomen and tried to get it out by literally clawing through her body. In her panic to get the thing she imagined inside of her out, she fell out of the window of the apartment complex. The next day, the Striders came to the complex to check it out. Gamzee had been talking with Melek when the Striders came and with what power he had collected from the woman, he disguised himself as a human. When the Striders had gone up to check out the room, he stayed behind, listening and waiting to see if they would find anything of importance. They found the red powder that was the second prototype and Gamzee went off to grab the other test subject, quickly forcing her to ingest a higher dosage. She ran through the halls, screaming and clawing at her head, a similar effect the other subject experienced. She died on the red powder and the Striders left.

Over the next few weeks, the Mole continued creating new prototypes in his underground home. The prototypes would change colors as a new version came out and each prototype worked more efficiently than the last, though the side effects continued to change. One man died from the yellow version, while two others were paralyzed from the brown version. The jade version caused mostly internal deaths where the subjects died from heart attacks, holes forming in their stomachs, or part of their brain dying. The more people died, the more frustrated Gamzee became. He didn’t want his prey to die; he needed their life force stable so he could feed off of them. He was getting more powerful by the night, though. He could create a full human disguise and walk around in the daylight now. More demons were beginning to respect him and when they wouldn’t, he would get violent.

One night he went to a gathering of demons and was trying to prove that he deserved more respect than he was getting. A sickle-handed demon called him scum and vermin and lower than dirt and Gamzee snapped. Gamzee’s hand pierced the demon’s throat and he forced it to ingest some of the jade powder. It did and not knowing how the drug would react to being in a demon’s body, he bolted. He later found that the demon’s chest had exploded and there were more demons who respected him now. Some even feared him. Good.

Gamzee snapped out of his thoughts when a dog barked nearby. He glanced over from the park bench he sat on and saw the dog. It was a large, brown Labrador that barked at another dog across the park from it. Its leash was purple and as his gaze traveled up the leash, he saw the man walking the dog. The Hispanic man was fairly heavy-looking with very muscular shoulders and the body shape of a Dorito. His hair was long and soft-looking and confined to one strip in the middle of his scalp. When he turned to pet the dog, Gamzee averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing.

The man was handsome, the demon had to admit. He glanced sideways at the man again. The man was now playing with the dog, throwing a Frisbee that the dog would bring back to him. Gamzee blinked, thinking, considering. His eyes unfocused as he peered at the man’s life lines. Surprisingly, the lines were bright and fairly active. Gamzee wondered if he daydreamed often. It might explain the active lines. The man threw the Frisbee hard and it sailed a long ways away. The dog bolt after it and the man’s shoulders dropped with a happy sigh. The lines brightened and it was in that moment that Gamzee decided he needed to have him.

Dream demon sometimes would obsess over a single person for a multitude of reasons. They might feed most often from that person or they would try and take care of that person so that they could feed more often. Gamzee stood from the bench and started over to the man, his dog quickly coming back with the Frisbee in its mouth.


	4. Brown for the Eyes of the Innocent

Gamzee stopped short, his confidence wavering slightly. He knew nothing about this man. What would he even say? What would he even talk about? _Sup, you’ve got active life lines and I’m a demon who wants to feed off you!_ He huffed. That’d go over motherfucking _great._ Gamzee looked up just in time to see the man turn in his direction, the dog at his heels. Gamzee found himself in an awkward position, the man a few feet in front of him and startled by his unexpected presence. Gamzee felt motherfucking tiny – all tight skin and protruding bones – as if he were standing in front of a motherfucking giant.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t see, you there. Sorry about, that.” The man spoke oddly, haltingly. He smiled sheepishly, lifting a hand to the back of his head as he laughed. Gamzee offered a nervous laugh, glancing down at the dog.

“You’ve got a nice dog there, brother. Is it… uh, could I…?” He held out his hand as if to pet the dog.

“Oh! Yeah, you can pet Sophie! She’s really, nice. Not an aggressive, bone in her body.” Gamzee smiled and bent down to pet her. Sophie lifted her head at the movement, sniffed him, and immediately snarled. Gamzee jerked his hand away and the man kneeled beside her, holding her back from jumping at him.

“I am so, sorry. She’s never acted this, way before. Sophie, what in the world is wrong with you? I’m sure he’s a nice guy.” Gamzee nodded, holding his hand to his stomach, wary of the dog for very different reasons. He guessed that she knew that he wasn’t human. He could forgive her for growling; she was probably just trying to protect her owner.

“… And you?” Gamzee started and realized the man had just asked a question. The man noticed that he spaced out and repeated his question.

“My name’s Tavros. And you?”

“Gamzee Makara.” The name slipped out of his mouth before he could think better of it and he snapped his mouth closed immediately after. This wasn’t good. No, no, no, this was in no way good at all. No one knew his personal name. No one. He only shared his last name to those he trusted most, like the Mole, but never to people he just met. Never to humans. How could a motherfucker be so stupid?

“Nice to meet you, Gamzee.” Sophie barked, nudging at Tavros’ legs. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’d love to, talk, but Sophie’s gotta get back to the shelter. Do you come by here, often? I’ll probably see you sometime, if you do. Bye Gamzee.” Tavros pulled Sophie away, waving goodbye. Gamzee lifted his hand and gave a weak wave back, utterly ignorant of the deep blush covering his face.

“Nice to meet you… Tavros.”

Over the course of the next few days, Gamzee’s routine took a detour. Every day he’d stop by the park at least once, hoping he’d see Tavros. He did see him usually and they would sometimes walk around the park. In the beginning, Tavros always had a different dog with him, most likely from the shelter he worked with. He told Gamzee all about the animals there and what dogs were getting along with others and what cats were having kittens and he gushed about all the animals that were getting adopted. Gamzee loved hearing him talk about the animals. His face lit up and he’d talk all throughout their walk. He would gesture the entire time and Gamzee loved looking at his deep, brown eyes whenever he smiled. The more they got to know each other, Tavros would come to the park just to walk with Gamzee. It made him happy to know that there was someone who was happy just to spend time with him.

“But he’s a human!” Melek hissed, shaking his head. Gamzee leaned back in the chair he sat in, looking away from the demon. “Are you even getting anything out of this? Have you fed off him yet?” Gamzee hunched his shoulders, white fangs peeking out under his upturned lip. He hadn’t. He was too afraid that he’d hurt Tavros. They were fixing the drug prototypes. There were less deaths and Gamzee had more power than he’d had in a long while. But the drugs still caused deaths. The Mole had noticed a trend. If someone ingested too much of the drug in a short period of time without recovering the life force they lost, the person would effectively overdose. Gamzee was at the apartment complex to talk about this exact problem. He was also there because the Mole had mentioned that people were beginning to sniff around as the justice system and the medical system attempted to figure out the cause for the recent deaths. Of course, that meant that the demon hunters were doing the same. The Mole suggested that they pause in testing and creating more versions of the prototypes, at least until most of the humans lost interest in the deaths.

“I don’t think that your… obsession with this human will end well. At all. Unless you plan on getting close to him so that you can feed well – and you know what I mean, your actions could jeopardize this whole plan of yours!” Gamzee snarled, jumping from the chair. In a few steps, he had Melek pressed against a wall, the dream demon’s hand clenched tight around the landlord’s shirt.

“I am all up and aware of the consequences my actions could bring and I have taken every motherfucking precaution to make motherfucking sure those consequences don’t happen.” Fangs bared and snapping, he leaned close to the other demon. “I all up and know what I’m about, sinner.” With that, he dropped Melek and walked out the door, his disguise already in place.

As he reached the park, Tavros waved excitedly and Gamzee’s anger dissipated at the other’s wide smile.

“Hey Tavbro. We gonna walk ‘round this big old square again?”

“No, I was thinking that, we could go walk around the city, a bit. Are you okay, with that?”

“Yeah, sounds pretty fucking cool. Lead on, bro.” The two walked side-by-side and Gamzee listened to Tavros talk about his day. Apparently one of the cats had a tantrum and socked one of the volunteers in the eye. Gamzee laughed loudly and Tavros added that the volunteer had pressed a paper towel to the cat’s face afterwards in retaliation. Gamzee smiled, bright as the sun above. His gaze focused on Tavros’ brown eyes when his mind drifted back to Melek’s comment. His gaze unfocused and he stared at the life lines flowing from Tavros. Bright and blue and as active as ever. He wondered how he tasted. Sweet, sour, tangy, or like freshly baked bread? Gamzee shrugged absentmindedly. As long as it satisfied, he didn’t care. And with how active those lines were, it would sure to satisfy.

The issue of actually feeding from him still remained, though. He didn’t want to appear in Tavros’ home randomly and feed off of whatever dreams he had. Gamzee still fed off of natural dreams, but he was getting used to the satisfaction of a good night’s feeding from an individual who ingested the drug. He was hesitant to give Tavros the drug and there was no easy way to give him it and ask him to take it without revealing what he was. He was sure that if Tavros somehow found out that he was a demon, the human would run far, far away. If that ever did happen, his best option would be to run away. He didn’t want to drag Tavros into this mess if he could help it.

As he thought, the two turned a corner and down through a back street. Tavros had said something about there being a comic book store down that way or something. Gamzee followed back a pace, still thinking. He didn’t want to force Tavros to ingest the drug and offering it to him caused consequences he would not be able to fix. Gamzee sighed, frustrated, and accidentally walked into Tavros.

“Motherfucking… Why’d you stop, Tav… bro…” Gamzee trailed off as he saw the man in front of them. The man demanded that they give him their wallets, their money, or whatever else of value they had. The mugger lifted a gun. Though his hand trembled, his grip on the gun was tight and Gamzee could almost taste the metal of the bullets in the gun. Tavros backed up so that he was next to Gamzee. The mugger demanded again, his gun pointed at Tavros. Tavros lifted his hands, telling the man to wait. He dropped one hand and reached into his back pocket. Purple eyes stared hard as the mugger’s fingers rested against the trigger. Tavros pulled out his wallet; the mugger shouted for him to just give him the damn wallet. Tavros fumbled with his wallet and ended up dropping it to the street. As he bent down to pick it up, the mugger stepped forward, his finger now on the trigger and

and

and Gamzee’s mind went blank. He remembered the mugger with his gun aimed at Tavros and he remembered something audibly snapping in the back of his head and

and his clenched fist snapped back, blood trickling down his fingers and his ears rung with the sound of crunching bone. He stared off into space, his gaze unfocused, and he idly watched the life lines sharpen with the man’s pain.

and

♓

The monitor beeped loudly throughout the demon hunters’ hideout. Meenah jumped from the stairs and sprinted toward the large patrol monitor, her eyes locked on the demon signature the computer had found.

“We got him.” The sentence barely finished before Meenah stopped next to the geek at the computer monitor, staring at the giant screen. Her voice was all sharp and hard and cold, all the happy and snarking puns gone straight out of her.

“How?” She asked, bending down as she looked at the controls.

“He slipped up.”

“A crazy powerful demon who’s been alive for god knows how long, and he _slips up?”_ Dirk’s voice pinged from Pesterchum and a video feed started up. Roxy sat in the background, her face lit up by her computer screen. Periodically, her eyes flickered up to the camera. Meenah waved her hand and called over her shoulder.

“Give me a live feed right now! I want visuals; I don’t care how gruesome! I want to know how the Mirthful Messiahs fucked up. Clam up and get me visuals!” She looked back at Dirk and noticed that Roxy now stood behind him, leaning down to look into the screen.

“Can you sand – send – them to me? Be much appreciated.” Meenah nodded and smacked the computer geek, telling him to send it to her. A few minutes later and the live feed took over the screen. On the screen, a tall, lanky man stood stock still, his hands raised in a fighting stance. His face was shocked, his mouth gaping open in slight surprise and a hint of horror. Blood trickled from one hand. Another man, Hispanic by the look of it, stared at whatever laid at their feet. The Hispanic man pulled out his phone quickly and dialed some number, mumbling and stuttering as he asked for an ambulance. The lanky man turned to his friend and opened his mouth to say something, but the other held up his hand, stopping him in his tracks. He nodded and thanked whoever was on the other line before he hung up.

 _“The ambulance is on their, way. We’ve got to, oh god, Gamzee, how are we going, to explain this? Oh god, I… I hope he’s not dead… What did you do? Gamzee, what the hell, did you do?”_ The Hispanic man seemed to nudge something with his foot and the video feed picked up a soft groan. The lanky man looked down at his hand.

“Is that him?” Meenah asked, staring at the lanky man. “Lalonde, I want you to search through your database for anyone named ‘Gamzee’. I want to know who he is and where he comes from and… wait. Can you rewind the video?”

“Yes ma’am.” Meenah leaned forward as the geek rewound the video. In the background, Rose’s voice asked what was going on. Meenah stared at the screen, watching Gamzee. The other man turned away, looking for the ambulance, and Gamzee’s image shivered, the image freezing up for a moment like a glitch in the system. Meenah tapped the geek on the shoulder and told him to go back to that moment, pause the video, and zoom in on the lanky man. The geek followed her orders and she stared at the frozen image.

“Got you.” She grinned gleefully at the image of the demon with the gray skin and two curling, orange horns.

♉

“Names?”

“Tavros Nitram and Gamzee Makara.” Gamzee slouched back in his chair, his face carefully blank as Tavros told the police officer their names. About an hour ago they brought the mugger to the hospital. A doctor had come in and told them that the man’s condition was stabilizing, though his face would need surgery to fix the areas where Gamzee’s punch had crushed the man’s cheek bone. Gamzee offered to cover the expenses of the surgery, hoping that he seemed sorry enough to be let off lightly. Of course not. He disliked the human justice system. Too kind, too soft, and too slow. Though, Gamzee thought as he licked his canines, slow might just work for him.

As the officer wrote their names down and as Tavros explained the incident as best as he could, Gamzee was thinking through demons he could get to slow down the justice system even more and it took most of his self-control to not smile at the thought of eventual bloodshed. When the officer left, Gamzee rolled his shoulders, relaxing back. Tavros glanced over at him, concern and worry clear on his face.

“Gamzee, I know the doctors said that, the man would be fine, but you’re acting very, okay with everything and I’m, I’m worried. I don’t understand what, happened. You punched the guy and… and his face nearly collapsed, into itself. To my knowledge, and from what I’ve seen of you, you’re not that strong. People aren’t that strong unless you’ve got tons of, muscle, and, you don’t.”

“Hey, if it helps, I’m not sure what all happened either. My pan kinda went blank and,” He gently punched the air, shrugging. “Things just kinda happened. There ain’t much we can do about it and I’d rather not see a brother all up and worried about things he can’t fix.” Gamzee patted Tavros’ head, smiling gently. “Just stop your worrying brother. Everything’ll be fine.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. A soft growl slipped from his lips before he could catch it and he could feel the predator at his back.

“Gamzee Makara?”

He turned, eyes narrowed and lip upturned. The two hunters stood in the entrance of the little room Gamzee and Tavros sat in, blocking the only exit. Tavros looked back and forth at the newcomers and Gamzee, confused as all hell. Gamzee looked at them up and down, grabbing a hold of their names. They were the younger Lalonde and Strider siblings. Gamzee cursed mentally. They knew his name and no doubt it came from the officer. They must’ve put the name into a database or something. But how did they figure out his name? How did they figure out who he was? They obviously knew that Gamzee Makara was the Mirthful Messiahs. There was no other reason they would know his name and come here looking for him, two demon hunters he’d only met once, but under a different name unless it was because he’d fucked up. And he had fucked up big time. Telling Tavros his full name. Allowing him to tell the officer his full name. Lalonde beckoned him to follow them.

Gamzee patted Tavros on the head and the corners of his mouth twitched up as he sensed Strider stiffen behind him. Heretic was ready for a fight and just a little jumpy. Good. Strider knew who he should fear.

“I’ll be gone for a bit, Tavbro. You stay here all nice and calm, all right?” Tavros nodded and Gamzee left with the hunters. His gaze studied the two in front of him. Strider walked as if he was so cool and collected, but Gamzee found that if you stare at the back of his neck long enough, he’d stiffen, turn, and glare his hardest. Gamzee snickered at his pathetic attempts to intimidate him. Lalonde, though… Her gait was calm and she had an air of complete and utter control.  She knew he was strong and he could taste her caution in the air, but seemed as though she had enough experience to know not to provoke demons. He smiled a little at that, but he chewed at his lip. She was a wall that could not easily be moved. He wondered how loud she would scream if he invaded her dreams. He wondered how she would writhe in pain as he bombarded her pan. His mouth watered at the thought of it.

“Hey! If you’re thinking about tryin’ to escape, we’ve got eyes on this place. We’ve got your signature. You’re not going anywhere we can’t find you.” Strider hissed through his teeth and the corners of his lips quirked almost triumphantly, all up and motherfucking _smug._ Gamzee resisted the urge to claw that grin off his face. Strider rolled his shoulders, turning slightly and he lifted a hand, revealing a short sword under his jacket. His jacket flapped back in place as a nurse passed by. A minute later and the three stood outside the back of the hospital. Gamzee’s hand twitched and stretched, subtly moving as he waited for them to speak.

Lalonde stared back at Gamzee, her face cold and hard. Not one bit of searching would happen unless he got close up to touch her. He thought over that idea briefly, shifting his weight to one foot and waited. They stared at each other; Strider was just there for protection. Gamzee tilted his head, looking sideways at him and glanced once more up and down Strider. Right after, he honked and chuckled. Strider’s hand snapped to his sword and Gamzee’s hand moved in a tight, little circle.

“Look brother, I’m not really sure why you called me here, but if you’re gonna just all up and stare at me for days, I’d much rather go—“

“Don’t call me that.” Gamzee paused midsentence as Strider interrupted him, the hunter’s face all tied up in a snarl.

“Fine, heretic. Blasphemer.” Gamzee smiled, all pointed teeth and fangs. “Now, as I was saying heretic, if all you wanted was to stare at me all day long, go back to your hideouts and leave me be. I got motherfucking shit I need to clear up and I’d rather not be stepping ‘round vermin while I’m at it.” He pressed his weight on one foot, twisting it as if he were crushing a bug, his narrowed eyes piercing straight into Strider.

“Actually, we’re here for information.” Lalonde’s voice was clear, ringing out through the space between Strider and Gamzee. “And we were hoping that you would give us the answers we need.”

“Depends,” Gamzee’s gaze slid to Lalonde, his smile half fallen. “On what you motherfuckers want answered.”

“Well,” she started, bringing out a tablet and clicked away on it as she spoke. “I was hoping we could at least get three things out of you. One, your full name. Two, what kind of demon you are. And three,” She lifted her piercing gaze at him. “Why everywhere you go, there’s a trail of bodies following after you.”

“Odd questions,” Gamzee noted. “Not what I was all up and expecting from you two.” His name? Why did they want his name if they already knew it? Unless… they wanted to make sure they had their information correct. That was the only reason he could see. They didn’t know for sure if Gamzee Makara was his name.

“These questions were picked because we believe that it will help us answer other questions we’re looking into that I’m sure you wouldn’t answer. They are also to help fill out the holes we have on your file.”

“My file?” Gamzee tilted his head, his attention fully on Lalonde; Strider wasn’t even worth noting.

“The file of the demon known as the Mirthful Messiahs, name taken from the image of two people that rise out of it when it displays. Type of demon is unknown. Possibilities listed below. Danger level to humans is high if provoked. Appearance includes gray skin and two horns similar to antelope antlers. Horns start red at the base and fade to yellow at the tips with a possibility to gore if it comes to close combat. Sightings of its face mention what looks to be either face paint or facial tattoos in the design similar to that of a clown. Three visible scratches down the middle of his face. Demon is tall and lanky, bones visible underneath skin. Very strong. If displaying, do not engage. Able to disguise appearance as a human. Abilities include a blast of something – not enough experience to know exactly what – that rattles through anything within a ten-foot radius. Possible psychic abilities. Not enough information on this subject. Hmm, there’s a note at the bottom here: _If able, do not engage under any circumstances._ Hmm, that’s new. I think it’s for you, Dave.”

 “Your file has some holes and we’d like to fix that.” Gamzee lifted his chin, looking down at the two hunters. He thought over the questions. How should he handle the situation? He could give them a fake name, but they would know he was lying. After all, he had answered when they came to him and Tavros. If he did give them his name, he would be seen as cooperative and afraid. He snarled; he was not afraid. He had power now. He could walk under the bright sun and he deserved respect for that power. The demon straightened and he moved his hand in a circle, waiting.

“So, your name?” Lalonde asked, her tablet in her arms and ready to type. He stared back at her, silent. She sighed and asked again. After nearly five minutes of silence, Strider was getting twitchy. He kept glancing around as if he expected someone to jump out at him. Gamzee rolled his eyes and waited, hand twitching. Lalonde sighed and gave up on that question.

“Fine, if you won’t answer that one, we’ll move onto the next question. What type of demon are you?” Gamzee remained silent. As he shifted his weight to his other foot, he considered the question. What if he told them? What kind of consequences would there be if he told them? What would be the best way to tell them?

“Why don’t you just answer the questions instead of standing there?” Strider groaned, glaring at the demon. Gamzee sighed and looked at him.

“Why don’t you sew your mouth shut instead?” Strider straightened his shades, turning his head away. Gamzee snickered and turned back to Lalonde.

“How about I ask a sister a question of my own? I wanna know why you guys are followin’ me. You said that I leave a trail of bodies behind me wherever I go, but there’s hundreds of other demons doing the same as me. So if you want these deaths to stop, why’re ya comin’ after me?”

“Because everyone who’s died in the past month died in an extremely peculiar way.” Lalonde said calmly.

“Yeah, we had that girl shambling around like a fucking zombie and you came in a smashed her to mush. Then there’s been people dying like there’s some virus going around and…” Strider trailed off as if he was hesitant to say anymore.

“And we’re stuck.” Gamzee locked eyes with her, his brow furrowing. “We don’t know what’s going on or how to fix it and honestly, we’re at a loss.”

“So you came to find me?” Gamzee asked, still a little confused.

“No, we came here because you fucked up.” Strider smirked.

“We’re telling you this because we think that whatever information we can get out of you will be very helpful to figuring out exactly why these people are dying. Or, if not that, to figure out what’s causing these people to die so we can stop it. Compared to all the other demons you mentioned, you’re the most mysterious one. We hardly know anything about you. We don’t know what kind of demon you are. We don’t know who you work with. We don’t even know the full extent of your powers. We don’t have anything to go off of.”

Gamzee licked his lips slowly, thinking. Lalonde sighed and covered her mouth with her free hand. Strider glared at Gamzee while glancing at Lalonde like he couldn’t believe that she told him all that. The demon sucked on his lip, frowning at the ground. They wanted the deaths to stop. That’s all they wanted. They wanted people to stop dying, for the people in the area to be safe. That’s all they wanted. If that meant they had to bring down any demon in their way, then they would. Could he handle the consequences that would come if he told them? Lalonde looked up at him, her hand no longer covering her mouth.

“You’re wrong, sister.” Gamzee licked his teeth. “You got something to go off of.” He added before either of the hunters could speak. “You know my name and…” He inhaled deeply, his eyes closing. Something told him this would not end well, but he ignored the voice in his head. He stepped towards Lalonde and Strider’s hand instantly went to the sword at his side. Gamzee growled, turning his head towards him.

“Calm the motherfuck down, heretic. I ain’t gonna hurt her.”

“You better not. We might be out behind the hospital, but you see that behind you? Yeah, that’s a camera. A camera that’s been keep its eye on us like a cat watching an ugly-ass spider. You change here, you pull out your claws, that thing’s gonna catch you. You don’t want that, do you?” Strider grinned triumphantly and Gamzee stared at him for a long while before his shoulders dropped and he shook his head. Gamzee roared with laughter, one arm thrown across his stomach. “Wait, what are you… What the hell is so funny to you, clown?” Strider backed away, glancing at Lalonde as his eyes widened behind his shades. “What the hell, man?”

“The thing that I find so funny, heretic,” Gamzee spoke between fits of honking laughter. “Is that you think that a simple little camera’s gonna stop me.” Gamzee lifted his hand, the one that had been constantly moving the entire time and slowly clenched it. Once it was clenched into a fist, the hand snapped open and the area around them shimmered. The hunters stared around them and the air shuddered like a computer glitch.

“It’s an illusion.” Lalonde whispered, amazed.

“Small, simple illusion. Surprised you didn’t all up and see it for yourselves.” When the hunters looked back at the demon, his human disguise glitched and faded away, revealing gray skin, two spiraling horns, and a grin stretched wide with sharp fangs. “You wanted to know what I was, so I’m all up and showing you heretics. You want to know more about me,” He stepped closer to Lalonde, wide smile still in place. “I’ll let you take a peek.”

“What the hell are you doing to her?” Strider hissed, his hand reaching for his blade as Gamzee pressed his fingers to her head. Gamzee held up his other hand, twisting the illusion so that a wall blocked the hunter from protecting her. “If you hurt her, I’ll—“

“You’ll what, heretic?” The demon snapped, losing his patience. Strider’s mouth opened and closed and he kept glancing at Lalonde. It would have been funny to see him speechless if Gamzee wasn’t running on backup power. The illusion was sucking away too much of his power; the illusion was already weakening. He’d have to feed tonight.

“I ain’t gonna be hurtin’ her. You want this information and I’m all up and offerin’. One time deal, no payment required. But you gotta be quick with your decision. I don’t want to be leavin’ him all alone for too long. Brother might get up and worryin’ about me. You don’t wanna drag him into this, do you?” Lalonde stiffened. “Didn’t think so, sis.”

“What exactly are you planning on doing?” Lalonde asked calmly. Gamzee heard her heart beating quickly. She was afraid and rightfully so.

“I’m gonna let you all up and take a look into my pan. Press our heads together and you’ll learn all you need to know.”

“Will you be able to see into my head then?” Lalonde asked, but when she didn’t receive an answer she sighed resignedly. “Should be an interesting experience, I guess. Deal.” Gamzee grinned and pressed his forehead to hers.

Immediately, Rose felt her body drop. She looked around at her dark, misty surrounding. Something like black smoke parted before her and she saw the demon stare down at her before he turned away and disappeared. Her body was thrown to the side and she saw the demon at the bottom of a chasm. He roared and her body followed his voice up through the chasm, passing different levels of demons until she crouched at the top of the highest building in the city. She stared through both the demon’s eyes and her own outside his body. They looked down at the city below, blue lines that glowed like light lifted from the city, each leading to a person. The demon reached for one and Rose found herself in someone’s room. Black smoke hovered over a sleeping person and a hand reached out and grabbed at the blue lines coming from the person. The line disappeared into the smoke and it solidified into the demon’s form. He looked at her and she felt him inside her head and she felt as though hellfire licked at her hands and at her feet and at her face and

Rose staggered back, gasping as her pupils constricted in terror. Gamzee nodded, dropping his hands. The air around the three shimmered and the illusion fell away. The demon’s appearance shuddered and the human disguise was back in place as he turned away. Dave lurched forward and grabbed a hold of her before she fell. As the demon walked back into the hospital, Dave asked her what she saw. Rose blinked and her terror was replaced by burning curiosity and utter disbelief.

“Rose, Rose! Are you okay? What happened, what did you see? Rose!”

“That… that can’t be possible.” The hunter lifted her head, watching as the door to the hospital slammed shut.

“What do you mean? What’s not possible? What did you see?”

“He’s…” She tried to explain, but no words came forward except for one incredulous word. “How?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this turned out much longer than I thought it was going to. But as a note, the chapters will be about this length, if not longer, from now on.


	5. Jade for the Jewels Around Her Neck

“No way, there is absolutely no way that the Mirthful Messiahs is _only_ a dream demon. There’s no fucking way.” Dirk leaned forward, his shades in his hands. “It’s not possible. Dream demons are one of the lowest level demons we know of. Hell, they can’t even make a human image! You’ve got to be mistaken, Rose.” Rose sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Dave watched them argue, sitting in a chair backwards with his hands resting on the back of the chair. Roxy finished adding Rose’s information on the Mirthful Messiahs, lifting her gaze away from the glow of her laptop and to the other two. She jabbed Dave in the side, frowning worriedly. He shrugged and went back to thinking.

“Dirk, I know that they’re at the bottom rung; I saw that. I saw him sitting at the bottom of a chasm with what looked to be the entire hierarchy of demons looking down at him. I don’t understand it, but somehow he’s able to hold a human form.” Dirk pushed away from the table he leaned at with a snarl and began pacing.

“But he shouldn’t be able to! Dream demons don’t get that kind of power. They don’t have the capacity for that kind of power.”

“Then how do you explain the illusions? What other type of demon do we know that can use illusions outside of themselves? Unless we’re dealing with a higher level demon, I don’t know of any demon who can do that. Can either of you?” Roxy shook her head and Dave shrugged. “See? Dirk, I’m as lost as you are and I don’t have anything else to tell you. Honestly, I can’t even figure out why he allowed us to know this.”

“Yeah, that’s the part I’m not getting,” Roxy spoke up. “Dream demon or not, demons don’t give awat – away – their secrets that easily. Rose, you said that he didn’t try to answer your questions verbally, but he showed you glimpses of him? Unless he thought that you wouldn’t be able to see anything, I don’t see what – why – he’d show you all that.” Dave tapped his fingers on the back of the chair, thinking. He muttered under his breath, nodding as he tried to get a rhythm for his thoughts. Something kept tickling at the back of his head.

The others continued to bicker and Roxy returned to her computer to search the database for any information on similar demons. Dave paused, pursing his lips together as he stared at the floor. Order out your thoughts. Try and figure out what got you to this point. Think through the steps. Find your beat. He started tapping his fingers, brow furrowing as he went through the past few weeks. Demon appears, people start dying for no reason. No rhyme or reason to the deaths either. Are they connected? (What’s the connection?) He sighed, taking a different look at it.

Man’s face is crushed from one punch. Strong demon, but can take a human form. Can create illusions. Wait a second…

Dave’s tapping slowed.

Can create illusions. Can’t take a human form, the form isn’t real. The form’s just an illusion. (But what’s the connection?) Higher level demons can take a human form, typically from possessing a vessel. But what if the form’s only an illusion? His tapping increased; he was close to figuring something out. He could feel it. Form’s only an illusion. What demons can create illusions? Dream demons. Anything else? Only higher level demons and a higher level demon would just possess a human for the form.

The demon’s appearance glitched. A bug in the system? No, not a robot. Not enough power? Dream demons can’t use a lot of power. They don’t get enough power from the way they eat. So they’re at the bottom rung because they can’t get a lot of power. But the Mirthful Messiahs did, somehow. But why? Why would a demon who doesn’t have a lot of power want a lot of power?

Dave’s tapping stopped.

“Oh my god,” Dave laughed into his hand. The others turned back to him, their argument trailing off into silence. “Oh my god.” Dave burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh my god, how stupid are we?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Dave?” Dirk asked, not so calmly.

“You guys have spent the last two hours trying to figure out why he’d show us his secrets and it’s glaring us in the face like one of Egbert’s terrible movies!”

“Then why don’t you enlighten us, Dave?” Rose asked, her hand resting on the jade pearls hanging around her neck.

“Respect.”

“What?” Three voices asked in unison.

“Guys, the dude’s looking for respect. You try being called dirt and scum your entire life and have everyone look down on you. You’d do virtually anything to get the respect to be treated like an equal. You’d give anything. That’s what he’s doing. Why else would he be willing to show us what he was? Not only that, but he’s also looking for people to fear him. Rose, everywhere you saw him in your little mind-moment, you saw him surrounded by black smoke, right? Adds to the mystery factor, doesn’t it? Add some suspense, add a bit of hellfire and pain, and boom! Fear.” Rose bite her lip, backing up and nodding.

“That would make sense, wouldn’t it? But how did he get enough power to do that? Where did that power come from?”

“Not from inside,” Roxy suggested, looking up from her computer. At the confused glances, she explained. “Like you said, dream demons can – can’t get that much power from how they feed. But if there was an outside force? If there was something that could facilitate the demon’s feeding, their feeding could become a more eff – efficient way of getting that much power.”

“But what could do that? What could possibly give the Mirthful Messiahs that much power?” Dirk asked, exasperated. Something was nudging at Dave and he began tapping his fingers, trying to figure it out. Something that would facilitate feeding. Something that would make feeding more efficient. What could possibly do that? _What was the connection?_

 _Gamzee sure looks a lot like that Ryden guy._ The thought came unbidden and from some forgotten corner in the back of Dave’s mind. As soon as it came, Dave looked up at the group. Rose noticed his gaze, but saw that he was still grabbing at something and she didn’t bring attention to him. Dave thought about that day he and Dirk had gone to the apartment complex. He thought about the woman who had died. He thought about both women who had died, all the while muttering to himself, _what was the connection?_

“The powder,” Dave muttered, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. That red powder. He had meant to get a sample and as soon as he tried, the woman came in and destroyed everything. When she died, she landed on the red powder. Out of all the places she could have died on, she died directly on the red powder. Dave didn’t believe in coincidences and the more he thought about it, the surer he was. He jumped to his feet, explaining.

“That powder we found, Dirk? I think it might have something to do with it. With everything. Maybe he’s making some kind of medicine or some kind of drug that’ll help him feed better or something. You remember the landlord’s nephew? Yeah, I think Gamzee looked like him. He looked a lot like him, I’m sure of it. We don’t know how long this has been going on. He could’ve had a disguise in place when we came by. He could have, I don’t know, drugged the women or something. Maybe that’s what’s going on?” He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at Dirk, pleading that he’d understand at least a little of what was mad rushing through his head. Dirk adjusted his shades and stood to his feet.

“I think we need to take a second look at that place.”

~o~

Melek snuck the vial of the newest prototype back in his jacket pocket when he heard someone knocking on the door. The demon started, glancing out the window at whoever had come to his door. His eyes widened, seeing the Strider brothers. He backed up, wondering why they had come back here. The investigation was still going on, but less so now. No one had come to his apartment to ask about the girl. Had anyone seen the Mole come by? No, the slippery worm was too clever, too careful. If anyone saw them it was because they wanted them to see them. Then why had they come? He worried for a moment that they had found the underground lab the Mole used to make the prototypes. Or had the Striders seen the Mirthful Messiahs? Was that why they were there?

The Striders knocked on the door again and Melek patted his human form, his vessel. It was a good form, harder to see through than an illusion. He opened the door, welcoming the two and asking why they were there. The older brother replied, saying new information had come up and they needed to question him again. Melek suppressed the urge to narrow his eyes. New information? He welcomed them inside, wondering what the Mirthful Messiahs had shown them. Melek knew that he had shown them something. He had come by earlier and told him, saying that he had given them a reason to fear him now. Melek called him a fool, but he had backed down when the demon had threatened him. One day he would no longer cater to the clown’s plans. One day he would be free of his debt and the first person he was going to go after was the clown. But not yet, not today. Let him think he had the upper hand for a little longer.

“Can I get you two something to drink?” Melek asked kindly, gesturing for them to sit in the chairs in the living room.

“No thanks,” the younger brother replied, his tone a touch too suspicious. The older brother asked for some water. As the two sat down, Melek walked into the kitchen and took down two glasses, one for him and the other for the brother. He poured water in both glasses and as quick as he could, Melek pulled out the vial filled with blue powder and dropped a small dose of it into the glass for Dirk. The drug dissolved immediately and left the liquid clear as water. He brought the glasses back and set Dirk’s down in front of him and kept his in his hand. He sat back in one of the chairs and took a sip. Dirk grabbed his cup and sipped it carefully. He blinked and pulled it back, staring at it in distaste.

“Is something the matter?” Melek asked, concern lacing through his voice.

“It tastes like metal.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I’ve had complaints about that all throughout the complex. I’ve scheduled for a plumber to come in and take a look at it, but they haven’t come yet.” Melek answered, setting his glass down and making a move to get up. “I can show you the schedule if you’d like.”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.” Melek sat back down, nodding. He knew exactly how to play this. He’d been around for a long time and he hadn’t been caught yet. They would believe him and everything would play out according to plan. This prototype was the closest to what the Mirthful Messiahs wanted. It was efficient and it took a while to take effect. The Mole did mention one problem with it. It seemed that the dosage needed to be monitored closely. One normal dose worked fine, but a second normal dose put the person to sleep and they would not wake up. One dose: fine. Two doses: coma.

The brothers asked him about the woman, asking again if she took any drugs. They asked him if there were any more issues in the complex, meaning if there were any more deaths or almost-deaths. Melek showed them the paperwork, telling them that there had been one incident a month ago, but it seemed as though the person was going to be fine. The younger brother, Dave, asked him if his nephew Ryden did end up living in the complex.

“Yes, he lived here for a while, but he never stays in one place for too long. He moved out a couple weeks ago.” Melek showed them the papers for that too, Ryden’s full name shown. They had gotten another demon to file information on Ryden so that he could be found if the need ever arose. Of course, Ryden had never existed, but it was simple enough to make it seem as though he did. Dave frowned at that information and Melek suppressed the urge to smile smugly. Looked as though they had made some connection between Ryden and the Mirthful Messiahs. That was the trouble with illusions. Unless you were good at them, the illusions always looked the same.

The brothers stayed for nearly an hour, asking him questions. The more questions that came, the less bullshit Melek could come up with. At one point, he completely avoided a question, asking if Dirk wanted anymore water. The elder Strider waved his hand dismissively, but he pressed a hand to his head.

“Goddamn…” He muttered and Dave turned to him, asking what was wrong. “I’ve got a migraine. Fuck, I don’t think I can handle this anymore.” He whispered to Dave; Melek heard them and forced himself to frown worriedly. Dirk stood up, swaying a moment. “Thank you for your… cooperation, but I think we have enough information for, fuck, now. Have a good day, Mr. Lex.” Melek walked them to the door, wishing them a good evening and telling them he hoped the migraine disappeared. As soon as the two drove off, Melek leaned against the door, laughing out loud.

All according to plan.

~o~

When the Striders got back home to their apartment, Dirk went straight to bed. He turned off all the lights and pressed his face into the pillow, cursing the damned migraine straight to hell where it belonged. About half an hour later he was asleep. As he slept, he dreamed. He dreamed terrible things. He dreamed his team went after a powerful demon, a demon that was terrorizing the entire city and threatening to burn it to the ground. In his dream, he had Roxy and Rose and Dave beside him as they charged after the demon. The demon turned and he saw Jake in one of its hands, the other reaching down for Dave. He faltered, but Roxy lifted her rifle, aiming for the demon’s arms. When the bullet pierced the thing’s skin, it roared and one hand squeezed, crushing Jake until his body was mangled beyond recognition.

Dirk heard Dave scream. Dirk lurched forward, katana in hand, and thrust it forward. Dave’s scream stopped, the sound choked and strangled. Dirk felt hot blood on his hands and when he looked up, he stepped back in horror. His katana was pierced straight through Dave’s chest. Dirk’s little brother stared at him, his mouth open and blood dripped down.

“Bro…” He whispered before his eyes glazed over. The demon lifted Dave’s body up and ripped it in half, laughing as Dirk screamed. It hung half of Dave’s body in front of him, taunting him and Dirk lurched forward again, stopping only when he heard Roxy cry out. He turned and watched as Rose’s body dropped to the ground, her hand lifting for Roxy. Roxy wrapped herself around her sister, but the demon reached down and grabbed them both. Dirk tried to move, tried to stop the demon, tried to save them, but he couldn’t move. Invisible strings held him in place and he watched the demon bite down and eat his friends. He cried and screamed until his voice was hoarse and he heard a voice laughing behind him, all around him, chanting _you failed, you failed, you failed._

Dirk jolted awake, crying out in fear and terror. As he came back to himself, he pressed his hands to his face. His body was drenched in sweat and he was trembling. He lurched out of bed, stumbling in the darkness and out into the hall. Dave, Dave, where was Dave? He needed to know he was okay. He needed to know that he was alive, that he hadn’t killed his little brother, that it was only a dream. He stumbled into Dave’s room, but found it empty.

“Dave?” Dirk called out, panicked. “Dave!”

“Dirk?” Hearing his name, he ran out of the room and into the kitchen to find Dave by the sink. Dave stared at him, confused and worried. “Bro? What’s wrong?” Dirk wrapped his arms around his little brother, squeezing him tightly as Dave struggled against his grasp, complaining about how he was sweaty.

“Bro, what the hell?” Dirk let him go, laughing quietly.

“I… What are doing out of bed?” Dirk asked and Dave gestured to a glass of water.

“I got thirsty, bro. And quit touching me, you’re sweaty as all fuck. What the hell happened?”

“Just a dream. Just a dream.” Dave raised his eyebrow as Dirk sat on the floor, his back pressed to the cupboards. “Take your drink and go. I’m gonna, I’m gonna sit here a moment.” Dave nodded and took a quick drink. He frowned, sticking his tongue out in distaste. Dirk lifted his gaze questioningly.

“Tastes like metal.” Dirk sighed.

“I’ll call a plumber tomorrow. See if we can get that checked out.” Dirk kicked his brother in the rear. “Now go back to sleep. Stop looking at me like that, I’ll be fine. Get your ass to sleep before I tie you to the bed again.” Dave left without another word.

Dirk sat on the floor for a while, thinking on his dream for a long time. He had never had dreams like that, not once. He didn’t dream often and when he did, it was just weird ass shit. His dream had been so vivid. He had felt Dave’s blood on his hands. He had been able to smell death and blood and how it had played out it was almost as if someone had been controlling his dreams.

Dirk jerked forward, terror filling his entire body and he felt a drop of sweat drip down his face. No… He jumped to his feet, grabbing an empty cup and filling it with water from the sink. He stared at it, hesitating, before taking a sip. Water. It tasted like water. He took another sip, his hand shaking as he tried to suppress the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. It tasted like water. It didn’t taste like metal. Their pipes were clean. _Dave had said it tasted like metal._ The water at the apartment complex had tasted like metal. Dave’s drink had tasted like metal, but their water tasted fine to him.

Dirk set the cup down gently, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing, listening. He heard nothing but silence, but he waited, barely daring to breath. There was a little pained gasp from Dave’s room and Dirk left the kitchen. He was silent on his feet, stepping through the apartment and down the hall to Dave’s room. On the wall hung a katana and Dirk grabbed it, careful and silent. He looked into Dave’s room, his orange eyes bright and unhidden in the darkness. All he saw was darkness. It was nighttime, but Dave slept with the window open. A little light trickled in through the window and Dirk studied the room, searching for something, anything out of place.

Something shifted in the darkness and Dirk focused on that, waiting. A car went by below and faint light trickled in for a moment, but that moment was all Dirk needed. A faint cloud of dark smoke hovered by Dave’s bed, a tendril creeping down and touching the temples of Dave’s head. Dirk crept into the room, as silent as the thing in the room. He kept to the walls, stepping carefully over and around Dave’s mess. Dave let out a little gasp and turned over in his bed. Determination and a fierce protectiveness formed in the pit of Dirk’s gut and with a soft snarl, he thrust the katana deep into the cloud of smoke. The cloud shrieked and shuddered, the demon’s form solidifying until the Mirthful Messiahs stood next to Dave’s bed. The demon looked over its shoulder, snarling at the hunter. Dirk ripped the katana from the demon’s back and dark, purple blood dripped to the floor. The Mirthful Messiahs lifted a hand to its chest, surprise clear on its face. It made a move to claw Dirk, but then bolted out the open window. Dirk rushed to the window and watched the demon claw its way down the side of the apartment building and watched it run down the street. Dirk shook Dave awake, checking to see if his little brother was alive. He couldn’t lose him twice in one night.

♑

The sword pierced through Gamzee’s chest and he shrieked. His body solidified and his grasp on Strider’s dream was ripped from him. He snarled and turned, seeing the older Strider glaring at him. He jerked the sword out of Gamzee and the demon turned to claw at him, but he pulled back. He could feel his life force draining from him and he needed to get out. He leapt through the window and once on the ground, he bolted. Gamzee ran down the street, instinct telling him to run, to flee, to escape with his life. But he was bleeding and he needed to stop it. He ripped off his shirt and tied it around his wound as best as he could, glancing behind him to make sure the Striders weren’t chasing him. Gamzee coughed into his hand, saw blood, and he started running again. He had to get to somewhere safe. He could recover, but he had to get somewhere safe. Could he go underground? To the Mole? No, the Mole had told him that the police had been sniffing around and that they were close to finding the lab. No, he couldn’t go underground. The Mole was going to abandon the lab soon and build somewhere else. They were so close, so close! It couldn’t end now, no!

He ran down the street, his hand covering the wound in his chest. It was bleeding and he needed to find somewhere safe, somewhere he could recover. Without thinking, he turned down a street, instincts taking him wherever they wanted him to go. The ground beneath him rumbled and he slowed, faltering for a moment. Where, where was he? Gamzee scanned the area for a street sign, found one, and read it. Fifth Avenue. Shit, no, this was where the lab was. The lab was below his feet, he couldn’t stay here. The ground rumbled again and suddenly the ground shifted beneath his feet. He jumped aside and ran from the street. He heard the sound of an explosion underground and the street opened up, a sinkhole forming. He stared at the hole and for a moment, he saw two eyes glinting back at him in the dim streetlight. There was a flash of movement; something was flying towards him. He caught it and opened his hand. It was a vial of lavender powder. He looked back at the sinkhole and the eyes were gone.

Gamzee got up and left the sinkhole and the Mole behind. He was stumbling and swaying now, losing blood quickly now. He needed to get somewhere safe, safe, somewhere safe. His gaze locked onto a door of a house and he sprinted up the steps. He banged his hand on the door, the sound loud and heavy.

“Tavros! Tavros, open up! Please open up!” He shouted, gathering what was left of his power to form a half-assed disguise. He pounded on the door again, shouting. “Tavros please, Tavros!” Suddenly the door opened and Gamzee stumbled forward. Tavros stared at him in horror, his mouth open.

“Dios, Gamzee, what happened to you?” Tavros moved forward, reaching for Gamzee, but stopped when Gamzee’s image flickered. “G… Gamzee?” He asked, terrified. Gamzee smiled weakly, one hand clutching his chest, the other clutching the doorframe until it splintered around his hand.

“Hey Tavbro, I…” He licked his lips, his disguise flickering as he tried hard to hold it together. “… I need…” He stumbled forward, gasping. With Tavros’ name on his lips, he fell forward, Tavros’ horror the last thing he saw before everything went black.


	6. Blue for the River Below

“All right, that proves it.” Dirk slammed the door open to the Lalonde’s home. Their mom was out for whatever reason again; the elder Strider didn’t really care why. Rose looked up from her book, not surprised at the entrance. She watched as he carried something in, no, someone. That was a body he was carrying. Seeing a pair of lopsided shades and pale hair, Rose set her book down and went to Roxy’s room, telling her that the Striders were there. Roxy came out of her room giggling until she saw Dave in Dirk’s arms. Her smile fell and her face hardened, serious now.

“What hav – happened, Dirk?” Dirk set an unconscious Dave on the couch, quiet for a moment. The usually expressionless face seemed to droop and he blinked a couple of times. Then he visibly steeled himself and faced the sisters. He explained everything, starting from their arrival at the apartment complex and to about an hour ago. As he spoke, he was constantly moving. He would sit on the armrest of the couch only to stand up and pace around the room. Once he finished his story, he sat next to Dave, a hand on his little brother’s hair.

“It’s been an hour and he’s still not awake. I don’t know what that demon’s planning or what he was doing with Dave, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that that landlord’s in on it.”

“You said that the water tasted weird. You made that detail very clear, Dirk. Why?” Rose asked calmly. Dirk shook his head and Rose asked if he wanted anything to drink. He glared at her and she explained that yes, it was a bad time to ask that, but he looked extremely not well and could use something.

“Soda, if you’ve got it. Orange if I get a choice.” Roxy grabbed him a bottle of some blue soda, apologizing and added that it was all that they had.

“Not big pop drinkers around here, if you know what I mean.” Roxy giggled and Dirk finally cracked a smile.

“Yeah, thanks Roxy.”

“Have you tried drenching him in water? Or maybe apple juice?” Rose offered, a mischievous gleam in her eye. Dirk raised an eyebrow and she walked over to the kitchen, running the facet for a while. She stuck her hand under it, nodded, and filled a cup full of the freezing water. Roxy backed away from the couch, grinning widely. Dirk watched Rose walk back to the couch, a bowl of water in her hands.

"The couch can get wet, right Roxy?"

"Yup!"

"Good." With a disarming smile, Rose threw the freezing water at Dave. An instant before the water hit, Dave shifted, waking. The water drenched him completely and he jolted up, crying out.

"What was that for, Rose?"

"Good, you're awake. Now we can actually get back to business. Roxy, can you get a hold of someone from Meenah's group? Maybe John or Jade. We need to find the Mirthful Messiahs, if he's still alive." Roxy brought up their connection to the other hunters and messaged John about their situation. She and John talked back and forth through the chat. John told them that if the Mirthful Messiahs was still alive, he wasn't giving off a trackable signature. A signature could disappear completely if the demon was dead or if it was close to death. They would continue looking, though.

While they waited, Dirk turned on the television. The others looked over as he turned up the volume. On the screen, the news was reporting that an underground explosion had occurred a little over an hour ago and that it had caused a sinkhole. Emergency workers had gone down into the sinkhole to try and see what might had caused the explosion. They found the remains of what looked to be lab equipment. The reporters called it a meth lab, though they had yet to find any evidence of drugs being made. The hunters looked at each other, each feeling as if there was something important they were missing.

"Could it have something to do with the Mirthful Messiahs?" Dave asked quietly, shivering under a towel as he continued to dry himself off.

"You did say that he might have been making drugs, but..."

"We don't know for sure."

"We could check it out?"

"No, it'd be swarming with people. I don't think it's a good idea."

As the hunters continued to argue about it, the beginnings of the morning could be seen.

**♉**

Tavros washed his hands under the warm water, focusing on his hands and trying to forget that he was shaking. Hands clean and dry, he left the bathroom and walked as calmly as he could to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The water heated and he forced his breath to come slow. His gaze kept slipping to his room, the door shut and the lights off. Everytime he caught himself looking at it, he pulled back and forced his gaze on something else. He would not think about the... whatever the hell he, it, whatever, was. Everytime he blinked, images would flash through his head. Gray skin, spiraling horns, clawed hands, fanged teeth, purple irises surrounded by yellow sclera, and those spiraling, towering orange horns...

Tavros jumped when the microwave beeped. Groaning, he covered his face with his hands. Why was this happening to him of all people? He knew how to bandage animals; that's what he had trained for. Humanoid... things? Hell no. He tested the water in his mug with a finger and dropped the tea bag in, covering the mug with a plate to keep it hot while it steeped. He turned away from the microwave to grab some sugar and stopped midstep.

Gamzee, the thing, whatever lifted his head, careful to not knock his horns anything. Through the hole in his shirt, Tavros could see the bandages he used to stop the bleeding. The face paint was more unnerving now that it covered gray skin instead of brown skin. Tavros stared back at him, not sure what to do or what to say. The humanoid across from him looked down and picked at his shirt.

"Thanks brother for helping me out. I... I hope I didn't cause you any trouble, brother." Tavros blinked, closing his mouth. It was still Gamzee's voice. The... whatever in front of him still looked like Gamzee. Well, not the horns or the skin or the odd eyes that kept flicking to him and to the door. The face did. The face was still Gamzee's.

"I guess a motherfucker'll show himself out. This is goodbye, I guess." He turned and headed for the door.

"Wait!" He turned and stopped when he saw Tavros with a hand on the kitchen door frame, staring helplessly after him. Tavros straightened and took a hesitant step forward. "You're not leaving until, I get an explanation. At least answer a, few questions before you leave." He waited until Gamzee, it turned back to him. The other seemed to straighten, his gaze composed as if he was mentally building a wall between them. Tavros took a deep breath and straightened as best as he could.

"Are you Gamzee? Are you my friend Gamzee?"

It was a simple question really. A perfectly, simple question. But it caught Gamzee off guard. He expected Tavros to ask him what the fuck he was and why he had come to his house of all places to possibly die. He didn't expect him to ask him this. Gamzee nodded, a quiet 'yes' slipping from his mouth. Surprisingly, Tavros relaxed just a touch. But with what looked to be renewed determination, Tavros did ask him what he was and why he was here.

Gamzee gestured for him to sit down and Tavros grabbed his tea. As Tavros drank his tea, Gamzee explained everything. He told Tavros that he was a dream demon and he explained what that meant. He described how he fed and how he retained his power. He explained that his power relied on a significant amount of life force and because he had been dying from the wound in his chest, his power had decreased so much so that he couldn't even display. He explained why he had been stabbed and didn't try to sugarcoat the fact that demon hunters were looking for him and could slam through his door at any time. Tavros looked away at that point and Gamzee trailed off into an awkward silence.

"You said that you feed off the, uh, life force while someone's dreaming, but you said that it wasn't enough, for you to keep your form? What do you mean by, that?" At the end of his question, Tavros looked dead at Gamzee and Gamzee could see the hints of panic and fear that were happening inside his head.

"I mean that I don't get enough power just from feedin' off dreams. I don't really know how or why it all motherfucking works, but I do know that however it works, it's not efficient. All the power I got from dreams were used to help me motherfucking survive around other demons, let alone walk around out in the sun like a motherfucking higher up. So one day, I got myself to thinking that maybe I could create something that would ease the fucking flow or whatever. Make things much more efficient. So I started makin' this." Gamzee held up a vial with some pale purple powder in it. Tavros leaned in to take a closer look, but Gamzee snatched it away, his face falling.

"At first, things didn't go motherfucking good. Not at all. The stuff all inside this powder didn't like human bodies. First few fucked them real good. Slowly got better and last try actually didn't kill anyone." Tavros jerked back, horrified. Gamzee opened his mouth to apologize, but shook his head. "Different motherfucking culture, brother. Didn't mean to kill them. No, never meant to kill the motherfuckers. Only wanted a little bit more power. Just wanted to stop being treated like dirt!" He stopped when he saw that Tavros was backing away from him. He took a breath to compose himself and then continued, his gaze looking away.

"This powder's a drug. Makes people go to sleep and strengthens their life lines and makes it easier for demons like me to feed. Haven't tested this motherfucker out and I really can't unless I leave and... that's likely not gonna end motherfucking good for me. Last one was too strong. Put people to sleep all right. But two doses and the fuckers wouldn't wake up. Not dead, but not conscious. Hoping this one works better than the last couple. Tired of people dying." Gamzee added the last part softly, as if he were talking to himself.

Tavros reached forward, hand outstretched and he asked if he could see the vial. Gamzee set it carefully in his hand and Tavros inspected it closely. He wondered if Gamzee was telling the truth and he wasn't high off his ass. Tavros glanced up, considering, but decided that wasn't the case. It was a little hard to tell with the yellow sclera. Though when he had started ranting earlier, Tavros could have sworn that Gamzee's scleras had darkened, the yellow turning into a shade of orange. Tavros lifted the vial up to his eyes, shaking it and watching the powder as it settled. What if...? He considered everything Gamzee told him and when he was finished thinking he was decided.

"Okay. I'll try it."

"What." Gamzee's mouth dropped open in pure shock, his brow furrowed in confusion. Tavros bit his lip, suddenly worried, but held up the vial. Suddenly, it dawned on Gamzee that Tavros was telling him that he wanted to try out the drug. His head drew a blank on why that was even remotely a good idea and he jumped to his feet, snatching the vial away.

"Uh-uh. No motherfucking way, Tav."

"Gamzee," Tavros started, but Gamzee cut him off.

"No brother. No way. I ain't havin' you acting like my guinea pig and shit. No way. Tavbro, you could die. You could die and I don't want to have your blood on my hands."

"But I could, help you out, Gamzee. I could not die. You said, it yourself. The last one didn't kill anyone."

"But they didn't motherfucking wake up! Brother, I don't want to risk losing you."

"Gamzee, you said that you needed, power to make you look you. I mean, you looking like a human since you already look you, but not how I know you. Ugh, Gamzee, I want to help you. I want to help you, with this. I mean, I'm freaking out all over the place, but I, don't want to lose you either. And this is the best, way I can help you out and not lose, you. You said the last one was okay, with just one dose. Let's try this out once, and see how it goes." Tavros grabbed his hand, the hand that held the drug. He twined his fingers with Gamzee's, smiling at his... his friend.

"I want to do this. Gamzee, please let me, do this for you." Gamzee shook his head and Tavros squeezed his hand, bringing his attention back to him. Gamzee looked into Tavros' warm, brown eyes and a part of his resistance melted and he nodded. He squeezed his hand back.

"On one condition, Gamzee." Gamzee blinked and looked down at Tavros. "You promise not, to kill anyone. I will take this, uh, drug, if you promise not to kill people anymore. Do you, understand?" Gamzee nodded and Tavros' smile widened and he seemed to relax. He pulled his hand away from Gamzee’s and looked at the vial of the drug.

“So, uh, how do I, take this?” Gamzee took him into the kitchen and asked him to get a glass. Tavros did as he was told and Gamzee filled the cup with water from the pitcher by the sink. He poured a little bit of the lavender drug into his hand and then sprinkled it in the water, stirring the mixture until the drug was dissolved into the water. He offered it to Tavros, telling him that he didn’t have to do this. Tavros waved his hand, though he swallowed nervously.

“Are there any, uh, side effects I should be worried about?” He asked, looking at the clear water. It looked as if there wasn’t anything in it. He wondered if it would taste any different.

“Might give a brother a bad headache.” Gamzee shrugged. Tavros sighed and downed the solution as quick as he could. He set the glass down with a soft, surprised noise. “Is something all up and the matter, brother?”

“Just thought that it would, taste differently. Expected it to have a pasty kind of taste. Just tastes like water to me. I would have thought you, tricked me into not taking it if, I didn’t watch you put it in.” Tavros laughed, but winced, pressing a hand to his head. “Oh yeah, there’s that, headache you told me about. Yeah, that’s, that really hurts. Is it supposed to hurt that, bad?” Gamzee frowned and guided Tavros to his bedroom, letting him lay down as he closed all the blinds and the curtains.

“You’re going, to take care of me, right Gamzee?” Gamzee turned back to Tavros as he pulled his sheets up. “You’re going to make sure, nothing bad happens to me, right?” Gamzee smiled and nodded.

“A motherfucker’s as safe as can be with me.” Tavros made a noise that was half content and half pained.

Gamzee waited as Tavros fell asleep. The demon had always enjoyed watching people fall asleep, watching as the troubles of the day just faded away. As he waited, his gaze shifted and unfocused and the life lines brightened. The blue light of the lines shifted and sharpened and danced across Tavros’ form. Gamzee waited, checking over the lines to make sure that the drug wasn’t going to kill him. Seeing nothing out of place, he passed a hand up and down the length of Tavros’ body. Over his stomach, his hand pressed down, almost touching him before jerking his hand up, bringing the life lines up so that he could feed more easily. The lines were bright, brighter than normal and Gamzee blamed the drug. Bright lines were good. It meant that the person was fast asleep and more vulnerable to dream modification. Feeding was much more efficient when the lines were bright.

He lifted a strand up to his mouth and guided it in. He took in just a little at a time. Too much at one time would cause the lines to bleed out. Too much over the course of a long time and the lines wouldn’t be able to regenerate enough and they would bleed out. He promised Tavros he’d take care of him. He wouldn’t take as much this time, he thought. He’d be careful.

Something blinked in the corner of his eyes and he focused on the middle of the life lines. There was what looked to be a small circle in the midst of the shifting lines. He bent down to take a closer look at it. It shifted and shimmered and he saw what looked to be a gold-colored room with long, glinting windows. He reached out and touched the circle and he felt himself fall a moment before standing up in the middle of a gold-colored room with long, glinting windows.

Gamzee frowned, narrowing his eyes at the bright color. The room was mostly empty, all except for those windows. He stepped toward one, studying it and the world outside. The world outside was white like an empty canvas. He stepped to each window and looked out of them, seeing the same white space. At least until he arrived at the last window. In the last window, he saw a figure walking around a grassy area and when he peered at the figure, he recognized Tavros.

He watched Tavros look around the dreamscape and when he pressed against the mirror in order to get a closer look, a menu of sorts popped up. Gamzee pulled away and stared curiously at the menu. He started tapping away at the options and opened a tab labeled “Scenery.” In the tab, different categories of foliage and landscapes appeared and as he tapped through them, the dreamscape in which Tavros walked around changed with his choices. Gamzee stopped, reverting it back to the meadow. He was going to have to thank the Mole. He owed them a huge favor for this addition. How they created it, Gamzee had no clue, but he honestly didn’t care. All he cared about now was giving Tavros the best of dreams.

He got to work immediately, finding an extra canvas on which he could create his landscape before setting it up around Tavros. He created a forest that would open up into an ocean bay. He added rocks and, flipping through the menus, he added a couple of mermaids to sit on and around the rocks. In the distance, he set up a ship with big, white sails and a proud captain at its helm. He made sure that the captain was absolutely correct; only the best for Tavros. He finished the captain off with one hand for a hook. Gamzee took the new dreamscape and placed it into Tavros’ window. The demon watched as Tavros wandered through the trees and once he exited the forest, Gamzee changed his clothes so that he wore the light green outfit of the character Tavros had told him all about once. He added a small fairy who flitted around Tavros. He could hear Tavros shout for joy as he floated up and up and up. Gamzee stepped back from the window, a soft smile spreading across his face. He’d let the dream run its course.

Gamzee stood back up, back in Tavros’ room, the blue life lines still shifting over his body. The lines were darker now and so Gamzee let them settle back into Tavros, done feeding. He glanced at the alarm clock on the dresser. It had been an hour since he started feeding. He’d let Tavros sleep for another hour and make sure that the human recovered. Before leaving Tavros to sleep and to dream, he pressed his lips to the other’s forehead.

“Told you I’d treat you good, brother.”

Gamzee looked through Tavros’ cupboards, trying to see if he could find some food for the human. He expected that he’d be hungry and he promised that he’d take care of him, even if that meant making food for him. He found a can of tomato soup and started working on making it on the stove. It took some messing around with the controls and a bit more searching for some milk to add to it before he was calmly stirring the soup.

As he cooked, Gamzee practiced with his illusion, testing out the power he received. He frowned and sighed. He was back to minimum capacity, enough to change into the dark smoke he had used at the Strider home. But that wasn’t enough for him to leave. He needed more than his minimum to create his illusion. Another stir and Gamzee turned down the heat a little. The drug seemed to be working correctly. Tavros’ life lines had been bright and he looked as though he was sleeping well. Gamzee could hear the faint sounds of his breathing, so he wasn’t dead. And Gamzee felt energized; he had all of his base power. It was amazing to him. The amount of power he received from one hour of feeding with the drug typically took him nearly 6 different dreams over the course of a night without the drug. He was sure that one more feeding would give him just enough power to change his appearance.

One more feeding… Would Tavros even let him? Was this only a one time thing? Would he be sent out as soon as Tavros woke up and remembered that he was a demon and not the human he thought he was? What if…? He bent over the stove, his chin hovering above the soup as he clutched the countertop. He could feel a pulse of hurt right where Strider’s sword had pierced him. What if Tavros did let him stay? What if he let him try one more feeding? Gamzee closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing.

What if the hunters came for him while he was here? What if the hunters tried to take Tavros from him. He lifted his gaze, the color of his sclera bordering on orange as he snarled at the wall. Tavros was _his._ No one would take him away. No one would take _his Tavros_.

What if Tavros got hurt?

That thought cut the snarl short. The demon straightened, covering the soup and turning off the heat. He leaned against the counter, letting it stabilize him as he pondered. What if he got Tavros hurt? Either by the drug or by an appearance of the demon hunters?

He’d kill them all!

No! No, he promised Tavros he wouldn’t kill anyone anymore. No more blood on his claws. No.

“Gamzee?” The demon turned at the sleepy sound of Tavros’ voice. Tavros ran his hand through his hair, staring at the demon. No… He was looking at Gamzee like he used to. Like when he didn’t know he was a demon. Gamzee could still see a hint of terror in his movements, but he seemed more relaxed around him. Calmer.

“What, are you doing?” Tavros pointed at the pan on the stove and Gamzee looked at the pan to Tavros and back to the pan, trying to clear his thoughts and find words.

“Uh, I made a motherfucker some soup.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s one of the weirder, things I’ve seen recently. I mean, you are currently at the top, of the list with those horns, but I come out of a sick nap and, you’re making me… is that tomato soup? You’re making, me tomato soup.”

“Well, yeah, I all thought and believed that you might need something to stash into your mouth hole after you woke from your motherfucking nap.” Tavros squinted at Gamzee, his mouth dropping open as he mouthed ‘what’. Shaking himself out of it, he grabbed two bowls from the cupboard. Gamzee dropped a hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, motherfucker. I already up and ate. Don’t need any food. Soup’s all for motherfucking you.” Tavros poured some of the soup into a bowl, sat down, and started talking while he was eating.

“I don’t know what dream demons actually can, do, you know, with dreams and everything. But it’s so amazing! I hardly remember, my dreams, for whatever reason, but I can remember almost every single thing. I was walking through a meadow and then, through a forest. I was worried it was going to swallow me up, but you know, not literally swallow me up. I guess that could happen in a dream, though. I’m really, glad it didn’t. But then I came to the ocean, and there were mermaids and a pirate ship, and I’m pretty sure I even saw a, crocodile! I swear, it was just like I was Peter Pan and then I was flying around and battling Hook and it, really was like I was Peter Pan!” He finished off the bowl of soup before looking up at Gamzee, this mischievous grin spreading over his face. “You did that, didn’t you, Gamzee?”

“Yeah, thought a brother’d like being one of his favorite characters for once.” Gamzee turned his head, a hand running through his hair all embarrassed-like. He noticed Tavros staring at him and he turned back. “What’s a motherfucker all getting his look on?” Tavros walked around the table to Gamzee and gestured at his horns.

“Can I, uh, touch these? Is that a weird question? I just, they look really nice and, I’ve been wondering what they would feel like.”

“Uh…. Sure, motherfucker? I guess if you all up and want to get your feel on, I’d be good with it.” Tavros reached forward and pressed his hands against the curve of the spiraling horns. Gamzee relaxed as he ran his hand up the length of one horn; it felt motherfucking nice and it calmed him right the fuck down. He couldn’t really feel the warmth of Tavros’ hands at the tips of his horns, but as they trailed back down, Gamzee found that he was purring happily. Tavros startled at the low rumbling, but continued feeling the horns.

“Does that, uh, feel good, Gamzee?”

“Hell yeah, motherfuck--!” Gamzee jerked suddenly when Tavros rubbed the base of his horns. At his startled look, Gamzee pushed Tavros’ hands up, telling him not to rub his horns there. Tavros didn’t question and instead he rested his head between Gamzee’s horns.

“Did it, uh, work?” Tavros asked quietly. It took Gamzee a moment to get what he was talking about and he nodded.

“Yeah, like a motherfucking miracle, man. Got my feed on and I’m back to normal.”

“Can you, uh, transform, then?”

“What? No man. It’s not a transformation. I just tweak what people see. I don’t actually all up and transform. Don’t have the capacity for that kind of miraculous shit. Only greater demons can get their transformation on. Not this motherfucker. But, uh, no, I’m at what we call ‘base capacity.’ Got the minimum amount of power to keep me going and keep me feeding. I was thinking that one more time would get me to be able to get my motherfucking illusion on, you get what I’m saying?”

“One more time, huh?” Tavros whispered. Gamzee flinched, slamming his mouth shut. He didn’t want Tavros to think that he was up and trying to take advantage of him. No motherfucking way was he about to take advantage of his Tavbro. Tavros rubbed his horns again and Gamzee melted into him, closing his eyes as he relaxed. The human continued to rub his horns, humming quietly. After a couple of minutes, Gamzee noticed that Tavros’ heat had disappeared and his hands were no longer on his horns. He blinked his eyes open and carefully swung his head around, looking for him.

“Tav?” He heard something drop to the ground and he heard a groan of pain from the kitchen. He ran over in a panic, nearly knocking his horns against the doorframe. Tavros kneeled on the ground, a hand pressed to his temple while the other propped him up. “Tavros!” Gamzee knelt down by the human, immediately checking his life lines. They were growing brighter with every passing moment, but it seemed to be too much too soon. Next to Tavros was the vial of lavender powder and Gamzee realized what he had done.

The demon pulled Tavros up and all but dragged him to his bedroom. He laid him carefully on the bed, gaze still focused on his life lines. He prayed to any god who would listen to a lowly demon that Tavros had not taken too much. He pleaded with anything that would listen to make it so that the human woke up. He could feel his heart twisting up with fear and worry and when he checked the lines, he had to step back and shield his eyes.

Tavros’ life lines, already brighter than average, shone with the brightness of the morning sun. Hissing, Gamzee forced himself forward and look directly at the lines and measure their brightness. A few seconds later and he had to close his eyes, but he already knew what he needed to do. Tavros had taken the drug, but he had either taken a little too much or he took it without completely recovering from the first time. His life lines were glowing too much and in enough time, they would probably burst and ‘bleed’ Tavros out. He would not allow that. He would not allow Tavros to die. Through the will of his determination, he opened his eyes and he began to feed.

As Gamzee fed, the lines grew dimmer and dimmer and Tavros’ sleep became less restless. When Gamzee finally pulled back, the lines were safely at their normal brightness and Tavros slept peacefully. Gamzee stumbled back, a hand pressed to his gut. He felt so full he could burst and he slide to the ground, his gaze lingering on the clock. This time it had taken nearly ninety minutes to bring Tavros back down and, ugh, he felt too full to even move from his spot on the floor. After a couple of minutes of lying there on Tavros’ floor and playing around with whatever excess power he received, someone knocked on the door.

Gamzee jumped to his feet, careful of his horns, and looked down at his fingertips. He touched his fingertips to his thumbs a couple of times before his hands twitched and he brought up his human appearance. He peered through the peephole, squinting as he recognized Melek. Gamzee cracked the door open and nodded at Melek.

“Would you open the door? I got news for you and it’s not good.” Gamzee let the demon in and after the door closed, he dropped his human disguise. Melek walked around the living room, glancing over to Tavros’ room, which Gamzee quietly closed. Melek frowned, but turned away from the room to continue looking around at his surroundings.

“What does the sinner want?” Melek glared at the Mirthful Messiahs for the name, baring his teeth a little. The Mirthful Messiahs straightened, looking down on him.

“As I said,” Melek started calmly, taking one of the pictures on the wall and gazing at it. “We have a problem. Oh, before I forget, the Mole gave these to me. Said you might need them.” He tossed another bottle of the drugs and a syringe. The Mirthful Messiahs lifted the syringe to his face, scanning the clear liquid. With an eyebrow raised, he asked what was in the syringe.

“The Mole didn’t tell me, but I assume it’s an injection solution.” To inject someone with the drug most likely. Gamzee wondered why the Mole thought that he’d need it. “I’m sure you remember the other night when there was an explosion underground and a huge sinkhole appeared? Police were swarming all over that spot all today, but all they found was the remains of the ‘meth lab’, as they called it. It seems, though, that the Mole had left out a batch of the last prototype – the blue one – and they forgot to get rid of it. Anyways, the explosion happened and apparently,” Melek set the picture frame back on the wall and he turned to face the Mirthful Messiahs. “That batch got knocked into the water supply.”

The two demons stared at each other for a long time, Melek’s face indifferent to the situation while Gamzee’s twisted into fear. His gaze slid to where Tavros lay sleeping and he could hear his heart beating quickly. When he turned back to Melek, the demon’s gaze drifted from Tavros’ room back to the Mirthful Messiah’s face.

“I’m sure you know what that means.” The Mirthful Messiahs nodded. When dissolved in water, the drug lasted until a human body ingested it. And with it spreading through the water supply, the drug would be able to affect most of the city’s population and more, depending on wherever the water was used. And with the blue prototype, two controlled doses caused the people to basically go into a coma. He still wasn’t sure if the original test subject had woken up yet. Sure, the batch wasn’t huge and it would be diluted, but if a person got enough of the drug in their system in a short amount of time…

“Though, the city has announced for everyone to boil their water because a water main broke or was damaged from the explosion or some other such problem. But, if I remember whatever I learned from that time I possessed a chemistry professor, boiling water destroys bacteria. But if you have a solution and you boil the solution…” Melek trailed off, looking meaningfully at the Mirthful Messiahs.

“It only makes it more concentrated.” The Mirthful Messiahs finished, his face twisting now into horror. This was a consequence he had not foreseen, had not even considered. Would could have seen this coming? A lot of people could potentially die and it would be his fault. He needed to figure out how to fix this.

“In case you were wondering, the Mole didn’t tell me where you had gone. I only found you because you displayed a little over an hour ago.”

“I… displayed?”

“Yeah, didn’t know what, or who, you were displaying at and I was expecting to find you with another demon. Not a sleeping human. Makes me wonder what—“

A knock at the door cut Melek off. The two demons simultaneously turned to the door. Melek looked back at the Mirthful Messiahs who had readied the syringe in his hand. The Mirthful Messiahs nodded pointedly at the door and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Melek sighed in resignation. Of course it would be him to open the damn door. As calm as the eye of a storm, Melek opened the door, smiling kindly at the two humans standing there.

“Hello sir, we were wondering if you found a dog? We lost our dog a few days ago. This is what he looks like.” The girl held up a picture of a white dog. Melek looked over the picture and shook his head, feigning an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, but I haven’t seen him. Good luck on your search, though.” As he closed the door, the girl stuck her foot in the door, still smiling.

“No, no, I’m _sure_ I saw a dog come in here. Maybe we could just, erm, take a look?” Melek could smell the other hunters that were chasing down the Mirthful Messiahs on the girl and the boy beside her.

“You can search this house, but you won’t find what you’re looking for.” Melek opened the door to let them in. The girl thanked him and all but skipped into the room, the boy following behind slowly. As soon as the boy entered the room, the Mirthful Messiahs reappeared wrapped around the boy. A hand cut off his shout and forced the syringe into his arm. The girl whirled around, but Melek punched her in the head and grabbed her before she could help. With a spark in the air, the Mirthful Messiahs forced his way into the boy’s head. The boy let out a scream, muffled by the demon’s illusions, and dropped to the ground. The Mirthful Messiahs filled his head with nightmares and visions of terror and blood and death, his eyes focused on the lines blooming up from the boy’s body. The boy writhed on the ground and when the girl tried to get to him, the Mirthful Messiahs grabbed her in a tight grip.

“Hello hunter. Did you find your lost dog?” He hissed into her ear, forcing her to watch the boy writhe on the ground in pain and fear.

“What did you do to him?” She struggled against him, but he gave her barely any room to wriggle away from him.

“Just gave the heretic a few dreams. He should be motherfucking fine in a couple of hours. Now, hunter,” His claws pierced through her clothes and into her skin, blood welling to the surface. “Why are you here?” The girl kept her mouth shut, closing her eyes. “Not talking, huh? Then why don’t we give the heretics some motherfucking incentive?” His hand reached out and twitched. The boy convulsed, releasing a fresh batch of screams from a hoarse throat.

“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you, just stop hurting him!” The Mirthful Messiahs twisted his hand and the boy’s screams ceased, though he still squirmed on the ground.

“Talk or I’ll start him up again. The heretic makes such sweet music.”

“We want to talk to you. We want to know what you’ve been doing and with whatever you did to the Striders, we want it to stop. We want people to stop dying.”

“And if I don’t stop?”

“We’ll kill you. And anyone we see as your accomplice.” Gamzee kept his eyes glued to the boy whimpering on the ground; he would not look at Tavros’ room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Melek straighten slightly. They just wanted to talk? After this, they wouldn’t. They’d kill him or they’d figure out Tavros was there and use him to get him to talk. Gamzee’s mind was racing and his control on the boy slipped. The boy relaxed and the girl sighed in relief.

“So, do we have a deal?”

The Mirthful Messiahs snarled and slammed her head against the wall, knocking her out instantly. Melek’s gaze snapped up to meet his. He stepped over the two hunters’ motionless bodies. His hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly, his shoulders hunched up.

“Sir?” Melek asked.

“Leave me the motherfuck alone!” Melek flinched at the anger in the other’s voice, pure terror flashing through his eyes and the demon began to display. The Mirthful Messiahs faced Melek, the sclera of his eyes bordering on red.

“Take those two blasphemers out somewhere and leave them to get back on their own. Or kill them, if you want. No, no, don’t kill them. That’ll just up and make things worse. No, just, leave them somewhere. Well? What are you waiting for, sinner? Get them the fuck outta here or I’ll motherfucking rip open your motherfucking throat and paint the walls with your blood!” Melek grabbed the two hunters and disappeared away. Gamzee’s hand twitched, surrounding him completely as he screamed long and loud.

The muffled scream was what finally woke Tavros. He sat up in bed and turned to his door. Seeing Gamzee’s shadow pacing around, he crawled out of bed, limping a bit from… what had he done before falling asleep? He shook his head, hearing Gamzee snarl, and leaned against his bedroom door frame.

“Gamzee?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, lot of things happening in this chapter. As a warning, the next chapter might take a while to write because a lot of things need to happen. There's only going to be 8 chapters for this, so things are getting intense!


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